


Midnight's Guests

by meandmysarcasm



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, Angst, F/M, Fluff, Self-Doubt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-13
Updated: 2016-05-20
Packaged: 2018-06-08 05:09:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 9,949
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6840277
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meandmysarcasm/pseuds/meandmysarcasm
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gold, the town pawnbroker, receives an invitation to a masked ball to celebrate the marriage of Regina Mills to Robin Hood. He reluctantly invites his assistant, Belle French, as his plus one. However, when they accidentally turn up in couples-costume things begin to turn to romance. Based on SB before the arrival of Emma. Rumplestiltskin remembers who he is, but Belle is still cursed. Rumple doesn't believe he could ever break the memory curse on her, since Belle couldn't possibly fall in love with Mr Gold, so he's keeping his distance to protect his heart. But what if Belle already loved him? Would TLK break her curse?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Invitation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I know some people are kinda confused about this story and how it fits in with the seasons and logistics and things so I should point out here that it's basically season one, if Belle wasn't locked in the asylum and before Emma arrives. Rumple has his memories, as does Regina but everyone else [including Belle] is cursed still.
> 
> Rumple's feelings for Belle are complex, because it's like Lacey all over again [except as Belle persona]. He doesn't notice her attention and he doesn't try for anything because he's completely eaten up by doubts. He doesn't believe he can break the memory curse on her because she couldn't possibly love him if she doesn't remember him...

She didn’t mean to open it.

Belle French worried at her bottom lip with her teeth, trying to find some plausible excuse for invading Gold’s privacy. To anyone else in town it wouldn’t be a big deal, but she’d worked for Gold long enough to know he hid everything behind a mask.

Sometimes, she thought he was like one of the dragons in her books; except instead of jewels and coins, he hoarded secrets. Secrets which gave him power over everyone. Although nobody dared to say it out loud—especially in earshot of Mayor Mills– Gold ruled Storybrooke.

And he knew it.

The invitation trembled in her hand as Belle walked over to the shop door and flipped the sign over. Gold would be even less impressed if he found out she’d closed up early, but Belle needed a moment to herself. She had gone to collect the mail like she did everyday on her way back from lunch, but today Belle found none of the usual pizza menus. Instead, a solitary letter sat waiting in the darkness of the mailbox.

Very odd, she thought at the time, tucking it into her bag.

No, she hadn’t meant to open it, but she had, slitting the envelope with an ornate letter opener Gold kept in his desk. Her fingers skimmed over the thick paper, tracing the indent of the fountain pen across the page. Gold leaf glittered at the edges, and when Belle lifted the paper up to catch the light, she detected a faint whiff of roses.

Dear Mr. Gold,

You are invited to attend a masked ball to celebrate the engagement of Mayor Regina Mills and her fiancé, Robin Sherwood, on Sunday the twelfth of November. The celebrations will take place at the Town Hall, beginning at ten pm with a feast, followed by dancing and speeches.

Please present your invitation at the door upon arrival. You may bring a guest, providing you give the name of your plus one to Mayor Mills in advance.

Belle placed the letter behind the till, hoping that moving it from her sight might somehow shift it to the back of her mind. It wasn’t as if she didn’t have anything to do. On the contrary, whenever Gold left his pawnbroker business in her hands, she always seemed to do twice as much work. The room still needed dusting before she could begin to make a record of all the new items he’d acquired over the last month.

Who is he going to take?

Unbidden, memories flooded to the surface of her brain. Gold, giving her one of his rare smiles. Their ritual of drinking tea every morning and splitting the last biscuit. That moment a few weeks ago when he accidentally bumped into her outside Granny’s, and he’d caught her before Belle could fall down. Belle remembered the feeling of his hands on her waist, how they’d been warm even through the fabric of her dress, lingering long enough for her to wonder if he enjoyed the physical contact as much as she did. How she wanted to pause the whole scene and replay it over and over again.

Gold might have uncovered most of the town’s secrets, but he didn’t know Belle’s.

No, Belle pushed them back as she swiped up a cloth and began polishing the display counter with enough force that she half-expected the glass to splinter and smash beneath her hands. Dozens of items clamoured for prominence inside. A delicate tea set, a ring of ancient keys which cast rainbows against the walls… so many strange items. Each one told a story, waiting to be revealed. Perhaps that was why Belle loved this shop, because in contained as many tales as a library.

Her thoughts fragmented as the bell above the door tinkled, signalling the end of her grace period. Even facing away, she recognized the steady thud of Gold’s cane against the floorboards as he approached.

“Belle.”

She gritted her teeth, alarmed at how easily he could make her heart flutter. Just the way he said her name; his accent clipping the ‘B’ so that her name sounded like a sigh… God, she needed to find a new job, something that put enough distance between her and this man so that she never crossed paths with him again.

Because she knew, in her heart of hearts, that Gold would never see her as anything more than his assistant.


	2. Staying Neutral

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Belle is curious about the invitation Gold has received, although she's mincing around the subject in case she offends her boss.

“Belle, is there a particular reason the closed sign is up?”

“Oh,” she said, trying her best to look surprised. “Sorry. I mustn’t have turned it around after my lunch break.”

Gold raised his eyebrows, his big brown eyes crinkling as he closed the distance between them. For the first time, Belle glanced down and realized he was holding a take-out tray of lattes from Granny’s. Steam swirled in the air as he placed them on the counter and gestured for her to take one. She wrapped her fingers around the cup with her name scrawled across it.

“There’s already milk and sugar in yours,” he added.

Of course there is, she thought. Gold knew all of her little habits. Belle opened her mouth to thank him when he spotted the letter. She watched his shoulders stiffen as he reached for it, propping his cane against the wall.

“What is this?”

“Ah, that’s an…invitation. Robin proposed to Mayor Mills last week and they’re having a ball to celebrate.”

Gold glanced up at her, his expression unreadable. She shifted from foot to foot and finally took a sip of her latte, even though it was still hot enough to burn. The smell of coffee stained the air.

“It didn’t have a name on the envelope,” she muttered, although that was a half-truth at best. Even without a name, anyone with a brain would know it was addressed to Gold. After all, she’d found it in his mailbox, outside of his business. Who else would it be for?

Still, Gold just tilted his head at her and kept silent. His hair curled around his face, strands trailing across the collar of his navy blue shirt. Though she knew it was the height of inappropriate, Belle wanted to reach over and brush those hairs away before straightening his tie.

She knotted her fingers behind her back to resist the temptation.

Could he hear her pulse thundering through her veins? Belle touched her hand to her face, hoping that Gold’s watchful eyes weren’t narrowing in on her thoughts. But when she turned to him his gaze jerked down to the invitation, a frown creasing his face.

“So,” Belle said, hating the brittle undercurrent in her voice. “Robin and Regina. That’s…nice. Have you got any idea what your costume will be?”

That’s not the question you really wanted to ask him, said a snide voice in her head. Belle did her best to ignore it. She would not ask Gold who he planned on taking to the party. She would not hand him her heart to crush.

No, the key was to keep the conversation neutral, to stay on the right side of their burgeoning friendship. Sure, asking what he was going to wear sounded pretty terrible in her head, but she knew Gold wouldn’t notice. Besides, she had a point. Storybrooke’s only fancy dress store would have a waiting list as long as Main Street soon enough as people began to look forward to the engagement party. Though Belle suspected Gold would find some way around that obstacle.

“I’m not going.”

Gold dropped the invitation back onto the counter; as though he was afraid it might burst into flames.

“Why not?”

Gold hesitated and then shrugged. He seemed on the verge of saying something when the door swung open again and Doctor Whale strode in, asking about an antique stethoscope Gold had shown him a few days ago.

At a nod from her employer, Belle ducked into the back room to look for it. Only once she was alone did she sigh.

When she returned, neither of them talked about the invitation again.


	3. Regina's Taunt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gold's POV. Regina taunts her old adversary about his lack of plus-one for her engagement party, causing Belle to drastically step in to defend her boss. This chapter deals a lot with Rumple's self-doubt.

He almost asked her a dozen times over. Yet each time, the words caught in his throat and he fumbled for something else to say.

Gold knew the party was creeping closer and closer, but he couldn’t do it. No matter how he tried to frame the question in his head, he came up empty-handed. Belle… she deserved something perfect, something worthy of those books that filled her waking thoughts. She deserved romance. And well, what could someone like him offer such a beautiful woman?

Gold had always known he was a coward.

The realization tasted bitter in his mouth. And with each passing day he watched Belle move through the pawnshop with a grace that sent shivers down his spine.

He wondered if the hollow feeling he got when he saw her could actually drive him crazy.

Most of the time it was easier to slip away, pretend that he had business with people who couldn’t drop in to the shop. Belle just nodded to him as he slunk out of the door, his head hung with shame. At least in his car he could listen to the radio and think of all the ways to bring up the invitation in conversation. At least in his car, he didn’t have to fight back the smile that appeared every time he remembered little nuggets of conversation. Gold teased them out of his memory one by one, little pieces at a time. They were like food, meant to sustain him and since he couldn’t muster the courage to ask her out, they would have to last a very long time.

Milah had never made him feel like this. His first wife just picked away at him, bit by bit and gnawed away at whatever remained of his confidence. Deep down, he knew their marriage had been a huge mistake. If not for Baelfire, she would have run off with the Pirate even sooner.

Gold closed that avenue of thought down with a snap. Thinking about Bae, remembering why he was stuck in this blasted town, made the darkness eager for revenge. And if he ever wanted to see his son again, Gold couldn’t let the darkness consume him.

He was still trying to move past the tightness in his throat that he got whenever he remembered Bae, when he felt someone tap him on the shoulder. Gold gave a quiet groan. He recognized that perfume. Every day, he sat in the pawnshop and caught the ghost of it. Sometimes, he thought that the magic Regina’s curse used knew he had orchestrated everything. Perhaps this was Gold’s price for that magic.

It didn’t stop him from breathing in the wonderful fragrance of patchouli and jasmines before he turned around to greet her.

“Gold,” she muttered, taking a small step back. “I just shut up the shop so I could grab some lunch. Would you, um… would you like to join me?”

Even though he knew he should invent some excuse to keep away from her, he couldn’t meet those beautiful blue eyes of hers and say no. His heart skittered in his chest as she moved to his side, her elbow grazing against him from time to time as they walked. She could have asked any man in Storybrooke to get lunch with her—especially in that lace shirt that set off her eyes—and yet here he was in their place.

And in spite of how confused he felt about her, Gold couldn’t help the small surge of triumph as she walked straight past Frederick, the high school gym teacher, without a single glance back.

His happiness lasted all the way to the fence surrounding Granny’s, and then he caught sight of Regina Mills, her lips already quirking into a smirk.

“Mr. Gold, what an unexpected surprise,” she said, grin widening. “And you brought your assistant along too, how wonderful. Patience, is it? Or Hope? I always forget. But then, names are more your strong suit, are they not, Gold?”

Somehow, he managed to keep his mouth shut. Regina liked to push all his buttons, testing to see what he knew, how best she could manipulate him. But until she had proof that he remembered everything, he was the one holding all the winning cards to his chest.

“It’s Belle.”

Regina waved that away. “Yes, yes, whatever. Somewhere your parents weep for their high expectations.”

Anger descended upon Gold’s vision. It stained everything crimson and his fingers tightened around the top of his cane hard enough to almost snap the wood. Beside him, Belle narrowed her eyes but brushed off the insult as she had every time Regina tried to bait her. Part of him was proud of that, of her taking the high ground, and part of him wanted her to step forwards and slap Mayor Mills across the face.

Belle wouldn’t though. She always did the right thing, after all.

“You haven’t replied to my invite, Gold,” Regina said, her voice growing sickly sweet. Anyone with ears couldn’t have missed the sharp undertone of mockery rising to the surface though. “What’s the matter? Couldn’t you threaten anyone into being your date?”

Gold ground his teeth, but said nothing. Belle, however, took a tiny step forwards. He put a hand on her shoulder to call her back before she did something to make Regina pay attention to her. Belle might think standing up for her boss was heroic, but Gold remembered all too well the carnage Regina carved when she went after Snow White. Getting on the wrong side of her would be a huge mistake.

“Hmm, you know you shouldn’t rule out that coma patient. I mean, he’s hardly able to say no to anyone right now. Clearly, nobody else will agree to be your date.”

Why did he have a funny feeling that Regina knew exactly where his thoughts had been directed for the last few days?

“Well, he just hasn’t found the time to reply to your invite, Mayor Mills,” Belle cut in, drawing herself up to full height. “Things at the shop have been rather chaotic recently. But he did ask me, and I did say yes.”

What? Gold staggered forwards, his eyes sweeping from Belle to Regina and back again. Had she just said what he thought she said? Terror fought with shame and a burst of happiness so fierce it almost consumed him.

Belle had told Regina she was going to the ball with him.

No matter how complicated his feelings for her were, there was no turning back now.


	4. A Touch of Awkard

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Belle's POV. She's having second thoughts about being Gold's guest to the ball.

“Over here is fine.”

Belle pointed the taxi driver towards the sidewalk. She paid him, waving away his attempt to make change and opened the car door. Her heels clicked as the taxi pulled away and it was all she could do not to chase after him, tell him this was all a terrible mistake.

But he did ask me, and I did say yes.

Why had she done that?

Maybe she just couldn’t stand to see Gold’s face crumpling as he fought to control himself. Maybe she just wanted the satisfaction of wiping the smile off Mayor Mill’s face.

Or maybe, Belle just jumped on the excuse to go to a party with the man she was falling in love with.

Belle’s mind forced that last thought into a box and locked it tight. She focused on the rumble of conversation, the twinkling fairy lights like fallen stars lighting the way to the entrance. A doorman stopped everyone, while a waiter took coats and gave out flutes of champagne.

All around her, people were milling towards the Town Hall. Women bedecked in finery, their dresses whispering as they walked. Men stood in tuxedoes and other strange clothes by their sides.

Belle stood alone, waiting for Gold.

He had offered her a lift, but Belle knew that if she accepted it, he would assume that tonight was a date. He’d feel pressured. Belle didn’t want that. She didn’t want to start pretending that this was anything other than her helping out a friend.

If he wanted you here, he would have asked you himself.

Belle nodded to Mary-Margaret, dressed up as a ballerina. White suited her, Belle noticed. It brought out the dark curl of her hair. Her own outfit seemed childish compared to that. She ran her hands over the black feathers of her skirt, smoothing them down.

Would anyone here understand the reference?

She was just tugging at her beaked mask when she heard footsteps. With the addition of the cane, she could pick out the sound of Gold’s approach, separating it from the crowd. Belle’s heart threatened to break free from her chest, like a hummingbird taking flight.

“Belle? I’m sorry I’m late I just-“

Gold froze.

She stared at him for a moment, her eyes sweeping over his costume with growing horror. The fake moustache glued above his lips, the dark suit and jacket that flowed down to his knees like a cape.

The toy raven perched on his shoulder.

“Is this a joke?”

She stumbled back, heat rising to her cheeks. Gold’s eyes flashed as he realized what he’d said. He shook his head and gave her a polite smile.

“Nice costume,” he said.

Belle wished the ground would open up and swallow her whole. How could this have happened? She’d deliberately picked a costume that nobody would replicate, discarding Ruby’s suggestions for cats and superheroes. It seemed like a logical choice at the time, glancing through her bookshelves for inspiration. Poe’s poems spoke to her. There was something in them that made the hairs on the back of Belle’s neck stand up.

She hadn’t expected Gold to be a fan of his work. And yet here he stood, dressed like the author himself.

Her knees trembled. Never in her whole entire life, had Belle felt so embarrassed. Gold didn’t ease the tension gnawing at her insides. On the contrary, he just frowned at her, his hand held out at an awkward angle as though he couldn’t figure out what to do with it.

At last he sighed, slid it through the crook of her elbow and escorted her towards the entrance.


	5. Keith's Unwanted Affections

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Belle's POV. Belle and Gold are shy and uncertain when they arrive at the ball. But the advances of a certain former Sheriff of Nottingham cause tensions to rise.

It seemed that Regina had pulled out all the stops for her party.

Belle’s neck craned as she stared at the ceiling, glittering with so many fairy lights that it resembled the night sky. A huge chandelier hung over the dancefloor, dripping jewels the size of chicken eggs. Flowers wound around every column and stood in the center of each table. Roses and pink peonies. Their fragrance stained the air, mingling with dozens of perfumes and—for Belle at least—Gold’s aftershave. She tried her best not to look like a lovestruck teenager as they wandered across the room, though it was difficult with him so close. He smelled wonderful, like musk and black pepper.

“Shall I get us some drinks?” He mumbled, hardly looking at her.

Belle nodded and he disappeared into the crowd by the bar. Now that she was here, this whole thing was starting to seem like a terrible mistake. How would Gold treat her at work tomorrow, if he couldn’t even stand talking to her now?

For a brief moment, she contemplated leaving. She could apologize to Gold tomorrow; tell him she’d suddenly gotten sick or something. He would understand.

It’s only a ball, she reasoned with herself. You don’t have to stay that long. Just for a little longer.

She’d never been to an event at the Town Hall before. Regina didn’t know her well enough to invite her, and ever since she’d started working for Gold, she may as well have been blacklisted. Belle didn’t really mind, she didn’t care all that much for parties. She would rather use the time to curl up with a good book, or else wander around town and see what people were up to. But being here tonight made her heart a little lighter. For the first time since she’d arrived in Storybrooke, Belle felt like she actually belonged. That these people, nodding to her as they stepped onto the dancefloor with their partners, were her home.

Her vision blurring, she glanced around for Gold, but she couldn’t see any sign of him. Ruby Lucas grinned at her over her date’s shoulder. With a flash of surprise Belle realized it was Doctor Whale. Together they cut a large path through the dancefloor. Ruby’s glittering red dress caught the light from the chandelier, sequins spinning rainbows across the marble flagstones. Jessica Rabbit, Belle guessed, judging from the dress and the blue gloves.

Belle’s fingers fluttered in time with the music. At the far end of the room a band played. It was exactly the kind of music Gold listened to in the shop. The memory of him fixing an old, broken record player shouldn’t have made her smile so much, but she recalled his clever, quick hands well enough to make her stomach flip.

“What do we have here?”

A hand brushed her shoulder, spinning her around. Belle’s body tightened. When she came face to face with the man, she had no idea who he was.

He was tall, with dark brown hair slicked back from his face. A single lock fell across one of his blue eyes. Belle supposed the stranger was handsome, but she immediately disliked the way he carried himself as he strode towards her. Here was a man who knew he looked good and expected everyone to fall at his feet because of it. 

“A beautiful woman such as yourself shouldn’t be stood at the edge of the dancefloor.”

Belle gave him a tight, polite smile. A moment later she regretted it, as he sidled up to her side. Up close, he smelled of beer. He scrubbed at the dark stubble growing along his jaw.

“Keith,” he said, ignoring how her smile now looked more like a wince.

He paused, waiting for her to give him her name. Belle wouldn’t though. She didn’t want to give this man any signals. 

“Ahh, a girl of mystery then? How about a dance?”

She shook her head, even though she already sensed that he was not a man who would be easily swayed. Sure enough he took another step forward, hand extended as though he expected her to take it.

Or perhaps not. For when she glanced up at him, determined to tell him to back off, she found that his eyes weren’t on her face but were leering down at the neckline of her dress.

Belle’s grip on her temper snapped. She was just about to bring the heel of her shoe down on his foot when a hand grabbed the collar of Keith’s Superman costume and hauled him back.

Gold. 

The expression on his face turned her blood to ice.


	6. Prejudiced

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Belle's POV. Belle panics when she sees how her employer reacts to Keith's attempts to flirt with her and she begins to question every nasty rumour she's ever heard about Gold.

“Is he bothering you?”

Belle was too stunned to reply. She’d seen Gold angry before, and there was something terrible in that cold, calculated temper of his, but this… His fury could have razed the world to ashes.

She half expected the unfortunate letch to fall down dead at Gold’s feet.

Gold yanked at the man’s collar again, raising him up off the ground so that his feet just scraped the floor. The material dug into his throat and Belle was alarmed to see that he was slowly turning purple. Just before she could say something, Gold let him go.

“Now you see, Belle here is my guest. She’s too kind to tell you that you’re annoying her, but me? I’ll turn you into a puddle on the floor,” he hissed, his eyes glittering with malice. He jabbed a finger at the man to hammer his threat home.

Keith rubbed at his neck. He no longer looked like the kind of man who should be dressed as Superman. The collar of his blue t-shirt hung loose and creased.

“Go,” Gold snarled, brandishing his cane. He swung it once, catching Keith in the back of the knees.

He gave a high-pitched laugh and the man fled. Gold watched him go, staring daggers into his back.

When he turned around to face Belle again, she met him with a frown.

“I could have handled that myself, you know. You didn’t need to go that far.”

Gold’s eyes widened. It was difficult to be angry with him with those big brown eyes staring into hers, but somehow Belle persevered.

“I know,” he said. His voice turned soft around the edges. Reasonable, tempting her to just forget about the whole thing.

She definitely shouldn’t have come tonight. How naïve could she have been? She’d watched Gold deal with his customers before, watched him scare them into doing what he asked. She’d heard the whispers around town, seen the way people would sometimes cross the street to avoid him.

And yet here she was, his plus-one at an engagement party. What did that say about her, that she had feelings for a man like that? Not just a small bundle of feelings, either. Not the kind that went away but the kind that stayed and kept on growing.

Unless she ran from them.

The disappointment she felt at herself turned outwards, targeting Gold. Belle huffed out a breath and strode away without saying another word. She felt his eyes on her all the way to the French doors, which she tore open to reveal a small balcony.

Cold night air hit her face. She leaned against the stone balustrade as her arms began to tremble. A sob rose in her throat. Each time her tears began to slow, the image of Gold’s terrible fury, more savage beast than human, started them off again.

The pain of those rumors was like the edge of a shard of glass, sharp and piercing. Belle never liked to judge a book by its cover, but when it came to Gold she knew she wore rose-tinted glasses. Whenever she began to see that Gold was just as dark and dangerous as people told her he was, she would catch him doing something unexpected and sweet. Like the time he gave Regina’s son Henry a bar of chocolate on his birthday, or how he grinned at Archie’s dog Pongo and stooped to pet him in the street.

Little things that seemed inconsequential to most people, but reminded Belle that Gold wasn’t the monster the residents of Storybrooke sometimes made him out to be. He was just a man.

And a friend, she told herself firmly. A friend you’ve wronged. Shame began to blossom in her chest. Belle started to regret running out of the hall to get away from him. Even if he didn’t return her feelings, he would be hurt.

She swiped at her eyes and took a deep breath. Above, the moon shimmered in the sky like a silver coin. Belle’s arms were covered in goosepimples. The music from inside stopped for a moment and then a new song started up. Belle wanted more than anything to go back inside and dance with Gold, pretend that nothing had happened to ruin the night, but her pride stung.

More than anything, she worried that Gold would have given up on her and left. He hadn’t wanted to go to Regina’s stupid party after all.

Belle gathered her courage and turned away from the balcony, just as someone caught hold of her hand.

“Belle,” he said. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

She twisted to look at him, trying her best to pretend that his hand—still loosely holding her wrist—didn’t make her pulse sky-rocket. He held a glass of red wine in his other hand, tilted at an alarming angle as though he’d forgotten all about it.

They were only a very small distance apart. Belle could see the rise and fall of his chest. The wind swirled around him, causing strands of his hair to flutter. Belle clamped down on the urge to reach out and smooth them back down for him.

“I panicked when I couldn’t find you,” he continued. His voice sounded like honey, slow and sweet. “I worried you might have tried to leave on your own.”

Belle took a step back, her gaze questioning.

He seemed torn about something, unsure if he should tell her the truth. The shock of reading this– plain on his face– made Belle shiver. Gold knew everyone’s secrets like he knew the back of his hand. But for the first time, she wondered if he really kept any of his own from her.

Gold hesitated for half a second longer, and then sighed. He placed his glass down on the balcony railing.

“That man who tried to corner you earlier… he’s not the sort who takes no for an answer. I noticed him watching you earlier, when we first arrived so when he came over to talk to you I couldn’t stand it. Sheriff Graham arrested him twice last year for harassing young women. I was not about to let him get away with it again. Especially not with you.”

“Thank you,” she said at last.

It was not enough, not nearly enough. But Gold smiled at her, his fingers grazing the back of her hand. His touch was light, soft as butterfly wings.

Was this Gold, almost holding her hand? Gold, who never seemed to give her any indication that he thought of her as anything other than a friend, who fielded all her shameful attempts at flirting as though they were minefields?

“Perhaps we should go back inside,” she said in a whisper.

The last thing she wanted right now was to walk back through those doors and into the party. This moment on the balcony–away from the suspicious eyes of their neighbors—felt like a fairy tale. Belle didn’t want to fold it up and put it away. She wanted it to go on and on.

But if they stayed out here like this, standing so close, she would do something she could not come back from.


	7. Evermore

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gold's POV. Gold tries to explain his behaviour to Belle and reassure her that he is not the man everyone thinks he is but his own self-doubt makes him second-guess himself.

Perhaps we should go back inside.

Yes, yes of course. How silly of him. For a moment Gold had slipped up and forgotten that Belle was only here tonight to annoy Regina.

A brief flicker of hope, he thought with a rueful smile.

Now though, he noticed the signs of her discomfort. How she leaned away from him. How her cheeks flushed a delicate pink when she glanced down at his hand, clasped around her own.

Well, Gold knew a lost cause when he saw one. He would not keep pushing his affection on her like that cretin Keith. Rage bubbled in the pit of his stomach.

He knew all about the rumors people in town spread about himself, of course. He even cultivated a few of them himself, knowing that fear was just another form of power. But Gold had also heard stories about the former Sheriff of Nottingham. Stories that weren’t lies. Just thinking about him creeping around Belle made him want to find the man and vent his fury.

But he couldn’t. Belle tempered some of his anger, smoothing it away like waves against a cliff edge. If he gave in to the darkness, what would that do to her? What position would he be putting her in? Belle was the only person in town who truly knew him, who could see beyond the mask to the man underneath. He would not force her to choose between her morals and their friendship.

Her hand slid out of his as Gold nodded.

Belle walked ahead of him. The moon settled on the feathers in her dress, revealing a multitude of hues in the prismatic sheen. Shadows nestled in her shoulder blades and at the base of her neck.

Did she realize how beautiful she truly was?

Gold hastened to her side so he could open the door for her. Belle flashed him a smile that made his heart skip a beat. Some of the tension hanging in the air evaporated.

“So what made you pick Edgar Allen Poe?”

Oh. He cleared his throat, hoping that the noise drifting from the ballroom would drown out his next words.

“Many of the costume ideas young Henry suggested were ridiculous. But when I spoke to him outside his school, he happened to have a new book in his hands. Which got me thinking about literature costumes. And that same day I noticed you reading a collection of Poe’s poems and the idea stuck in my head. It helped that he wore clothes similar enough to my own that I only needed to make a few mild alterations.”

“What?” Belle gasped.

He saw what was going to happen a split second before it occurred. Her narrow heel caught in a crack in the ground and stuck. She stumbled. For a second it looked as though she would catch herself in time, but then her hands pinwheeled out and she lost her balance. Momentum propelled her forwards…

…Right into Gold’s waiting arms.

He spluttered as she fell against him. His hand reached around her waist, keeping her upright. He tried his best not to notice her cold skin brushing against his own but then she peeked up at him through a thick lace of lashes. Her eyes were wide with surprise.

The fall had messed up her hair. Absent-mindedly, Gold reached out and tucked a loose tendril of it behind her ear. Belle closed her eyes at his touch and let out a shaky breath.

He should stop, he told himself. What would she say tomorrow, when they were back at work? In response, his fingers skimmed across Belle’s hair to her temple and caressed it. He was making a terrible mistake. Yet even as he thought that, he moved his hand—now trembling—to trace her cheekbones.

Why didn’t she stop him? But deep down Gold already knew the answer. He knew it from the way she held still as his fingers ghosted around the outline of her mouth, how her lips parted at his touch.

“Belle,” he breathed, knowing as he said it that he had tumbled off a precipice and was hurtling towards something he couldn’t stop. Didn’t even want to stop, if he was being honest. He’d wanted this ever since he first met her. Wanted it so badly that it felt like a knife lodged into his heart.

And so Gold kissed her.


	8. True Love's Kiss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Belle's POV. Gold kisses Belle.
> 
> P.S. Sorry for the weird layout of this chapter. AO3 has sort of removed the spaces between the lines and made it look all condensed and I'm not sure how to fix it :S

Gold kissed her.  
Belle had daydreamed about this often enough, imagining the scenarios that might lead to it before tossing them away, one at a time. Yet here it was, a dream made real.  
No, she thought, better than that. In her dreams, Gold didn’t tangle his fingers in her hair. He didn’t curse when his fake moustache got in the way of his butterfly kisses and tore it off. But he did all of those things now.  
And though Belle had willed this moment a dozen times or more in those dreams, she’d never accurately conjured up the feel of his heartbeat thudding under her palm, or the soft groan Gold made when Belle circled an arm around his neck. He explored her mouth, and he tasted of red wine and something else… something like dark chocolate and spices, something dangerous and forbidden. Each kiss was soft and deliberate, saying with brush after brush of lips what they’d never confessed to each other before. And yet Belle didn’t want Gold to be gentle with her. She wanted to fling her careful control to the ground.  
So when they broke apart, some small part of her felt a flicker of disappointment. It only grew when Gold pulled away from her, staring at her as though he’d never seen her before in his life. His eyes were unfocused, almost luminous in the moonlight. She would have pulled him closer again, but Gold’s distance from her now felt calculated, intended to force them both to come back down to earth.  
Worse than that even, something tugged at her mind. Some strange sense of déjà vu. Images of a castle, her father dressed in the kind of clothes she read about in historical novels. Ridiculous, and yet Belle couldn’t throw away the sensation. Especially when she glanced at Gold. For a brief moment, there seemed to be another version of him swimming before her eyes, super-imposed over the real Gold. A strange, glittering version of him.  
Belle shoved the thought away.  
“I think I’ve had too much wine,” he laughed. His voice sounded oddly bittersweet.  
Gold ducked his head, running his thumb over his lower lip as though he couldn’t quite believe what had just happened. Belle trembled where she stood, reality crashing over her shoulders as she hear his words echo again and again in her mind. The shame that tinged each word was palpable.  
Oh God, he’d hated it. How could something that made Belle feel like she was on top of the world be something that he didn’t enjoy? How could she have been so wrong about his actions? Tears sprang to her eyes just as Gold finally met them.  
He darted forwards instantly, brushing a tear from her cheek.  
“No, no, not like that,” he said, sounding frustrated. “I didn’t… I only meant that I shouldn’t have been so forward with you, that’s all. Belle, you must have known how I felt about you. You’ve driven me to distraction from the moment we met. But I should have asked you out for dinner, as I wanted to, not just… I should have shown more restraint.”  
Belle held a finger up to his lips to silence him. Gold’s eyes widened. God, she could lose herself in those eyes.  
“You are nothing like that man in there,” she said, jerking her chin towards the doors. “You didn’t force me to kiss you back. If I didn’t want it, I would have pushed you away.”  
Gold nodded and closed his eyes. His lashes dusted his cheeks with shadows. She heard him sigh, soft as the wind.  
“Besides,” she said, her smile becoming mischievous, “I would consider this a date. Even if neither of us actually asked the other…”  
The startled laugh Gold gave her sounded like music. They were standing next to each other now, close enough for Belle to feel the heat emanating from him. His lips twitched with mirth as he brushed his thumb lightly across her bare shoulder.  
“A rather unconventional date,” he allowed. “You must be freezing.”  
Belle didn’t say anything, afraid that he would suggest going inside if she did. She wanted to stay out here, where the magic of this moment could be bottled and maintained. She closed her eyes to savour all of it; the stars glittering overhead, the wind tugging at her curls, the stuttering breaths of the man beside her. Gold seemed to agree with her, because instead of breaking the spell, he just shrugged off his suit jacket and draped it over her shoulders.  
It smelled like him. Belle nuzzled against the collar.  
“Thank you.”  
Gold nodded, looking thoughtful. It was a breath or two before he spoke again, his voice hesitant.  
“So if I had asked you out on a date?”  
The uncertainty in his tone made Belle smile. Really, she couldn’t imagine a world where this version of Gold fitted with the terrifying figure people assumed he was. How could he be, when he ghosted his fingers over her wrist and he looked at her the way people sometimes looked at the moon?  
“I would have said yes. A thousand times yes.”  
Gold sighed.  
“You know, I never even asked you to dance with me tonight.”  
“There’s nothing stopping you now.”  
“I don’t want to go back inside,” he said.  
A shiver ran down her spine. For a moment she felt infinitely brave, buoyed up by the power of his words. And so she turned to him and wrapped her arm around his waist so that she could pull closer to him.

Belle leaned close so she could whisper in his ear.  
“So don’t. Stay out here instead.”  
Gold grinned at her. Wordlessly, he took her hand and steered her into the centre of the balcony. If she strained her ears, she could just make out the music murmuring out from the Main Hall. He moved with a grace that surprised Belle; she could not fathom out where her boss could have learned to dance like that. Yet each step he guided her into seemed flawless and he spun her as though he’d been doing it his whole life. Every time his hand pressed against the small of her back, Belle felt her nerves tingle at the contact.  
Was this what it felt like to be in love? If every touch could make her heart flip-flop in her chest like this, she didn’t know how anyone could ever stand it. So much emotion swelled in her heart, she worried it might explode.  
And all of a sudden she remembered everything.  
Avonlea. The Ogre War. The deal she’d made with Rumplestiltskin…  
“Rumplestiltskin.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this is a little jarring with the rest of the story so far, but I've been tinkering with the plot and this is the best solution I found to skirt around the glaring plot holes I saw looming. And yes, TLK doesn't work instantly on Belle in the way that it seemed to work in the show, but I wanted to show it in a more gradual way, rather than the instant awakening thing. 
> 
> Anyhow, I hope everyone is enjoying the story so far...


	9. Hope is a Fragile Thing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rumple's POV. He's full of angst about the kiss and wondering what it means for him and Belle.

Hope is a strange and fragile thing.  
Rumplestiltskin had felt it crumble through his fingers more times than he could count. Each time his attempts to cross realms to find Baelfire failed, each time the rules of magic foiled him.  
And when Regina told him Belle had died. Even now, his mind pulled away from the memory. It was like crushed glass under bare feet, a wound that kept bleeding no matter how much pressure he put on it.   
She died. She died. She died.  
The first time he’d seen Belle French wandering around Storybrooke his heart almost stopped. At first he wouldn’t believe it; better to assume his mind had finally cracked and was conjuring ghosts to keep him company.  
But splinter by splinter his hope grew back.  
Rumple offered her a job soon after that. Not that he needed an assistant—not really—but he needed her nearby. He needed to be able to see her, to remind himself that she existed. Every time he heard her laugh, every time her fingers brushed against his when passing him paperwork, chipped away at the ice freezing his heart. Regina didn’t try and break up their burgeoning friendship. On the contrary, she seemed to harbour a special kind of satisfaction at seeing Belle by Rumple’s side. It galled him that she revelled in his torture, that every moment he spent pining for his assistant gave Regina amusement at his expense and yet he couldn’t bring himself to put any significant distance between himself and Belle.  
And so he continued to long for what he could not have.  
Until now.  
Yes, hope was a strange and fragile thing. So he supposed he shouldn’t have been so disappointed when his newest hope wilted away before his eyes.  
True love’s kiss. The most powerful magic of all. Once, it had almost rid him of the darkness. Once, it had almost broken Rumplestiltskin’s curse. It didn’t worry him now. Magic worked different in this world.  
But it didn’t break the curse on Belle. For a very brief moment, Rumple had felt…something. A flicker of power perhaps. But when Belle didn’t react, he put it down to the kiss.  
Maybe it wasn’t a kiss born of true love, but it certainly felt magical. It tasted like fresh air and sunshine, stars and darkness. Rumple’s heart beat so fast he worried it might break free from his chest and fly away.  
It was a kiss of longing, the kiss of a drowning man desperate for air. And it broke him.  
Rumplestiltskin couldn’t think straight. Every inch of his mind seemed possessed by Belle. When the kiss ended, he wondered that he was still on his feet.  
But at the end of it, she was still Belle French, assistant at Gold’s Pawnbrokers and—to her at least—he was still Mr. Gold.  
Hope, perhaps the worst curse of all.  
“I think I’ve had too much wine,” he chuckled. He needed to make light of his frustration, before it tore him apart.  
It didn’t mean anything, he told himself. If he told himself that often enough, perhaps he could make it true.  
Still, would that be fair to her? He didn’t know.  
She stumbled back from him as though his words were a physical blow. She wrapped her arms around herself, small and vulnerable and it took everything in his power not to hold her to him and kiss away the tears falling from her eyes.  
He hated that he could do that to her. Seeing her crying, he made his decision.  
Rumple could learn to love this new Belle. He did love her, as much as he could when she didn’t know anything about the man behind the mask. It didn’t matter that he couldn’t break her curse. Belle French, in any lifetime, in any form, would always be enough for him.  
So he stepped forward and wiped away her tears.   
“No, no, not like that,” he said, wishing he could erase the last few moments and start over. “I didn’t… I only meant that I shouldn’t have been so forward with you, that’s all. Belle, you must have known how I felt about you. You’ve driven me to distraction from the moment we met. But I should have asked you out for dinner, as I wanted to, not just… I should have shown more restraint.”  
Belle pressed a finger to his lips.  
“You are nothing like that man in there. You didn’t force me to kiss you back. If I didn’t want it, I would have pushed you away.”  
He closed his eyes to the image of her. Trust Belle to think of him heroically, to misjudge the path his mind was treading. How could he ever tell her that Keith was not the problem, but his own past and how it intertwined with hers? How to explain his own darkness to this sweet, innocent woman she had become? But if he said nothing, if he didn’t take things slow and tell the truth, he would be no better than Keith, not really. Just a different kind of scoundrel.   
He should walk away from this. But Rumplestiltskin didn’t think he could face the loneliness of Storybrooke again without Belle by his side.  
He forced himself to nod.  
“Besides,” she said, her eyes glittering like sun on the ocean, “I would consider this a date. Even if neither of us actually asked the other…”

That teased a laugh from him, at least. Unbidden, he skimmed his thumb down her shoulder. His pulse thudded at the contact.  
For some strange reason, this new Belle found him interesting. Perhaps that would be enough for her. A happy ending of sorts.  
Rumple would take it.  
“A rather unconventional date. You must be freezing.”  
Belle didn’t speak. Rumple waited a moment, strangely nervous. He’d never…courted before. Never had the chance. His marriage had been arranged, a meeting between the spinsters who raised him and Milah’s father. A ring and a family in exchange for a spool of cloth every year. Luck had been on his side to begin with, at least. For a brief time, they had been in love. And from that came Bae. But never did they…date. Rumple had never taken Milah out for food, or moonlit strolls.  
His affair with Cora didn’t give him anything to work with either. Stolen kisses and embraces in the hush of the night. And those days spent with Belle before he pushed her away… well, he’d been too busy thinking of how to break the spell she seemed to cast over him to actually try and woo her.  
In the end he took off his suit jacket and placed it over her shoulders to protect her from the cold.  
When Belle huddled into it, it took all of his strength of mind not to kiss her senseless again. How could she turn him on with such a small movement?  
“Thank you.”  
God, he didn’t know what to do now. What did she want from him? What would make Belle happy?  
“So if I had asked you out on a date?”  
“I would have said yes. A thousand times yes.”  
Jesus. He sighed. He knew when he went home and lay in bed that her words would keep him up all night.  
The thought made him momentarily brave.  
“You know, I never even asked you to dance with me tonight.”  
Belle grinned. “There’s nothing stopping you now.”  
“I don’t want to go back inside,” he confessed.  
He gasped as she put her arm around him and pulled him close. Her breath stirred his hair, warm and sweet.  
“So don’t. Stay out here instead.”  
Rumple took her hand and manoeuvred her into a dance. The stars shone down on them, turning her dress silver and her skin to milk. When it came to touching her, his pulse thundered like a drum in his ears. He did it gently, as though she was made of glass.  
He moved to spin her but she tore free. A multitude of emotions passed over her face as she stared at him, her lips parted in surprise or horror or who knew what.  
“Rumplestiltskin?” She asked.  
His world fragmented around him.


	10. Of Kisses and Dreams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Belle's POV. She's been woken by True Love's Kiss and she remembers everything. But how will she react to the man who broke her curse?

All of it. Belle remembered all of it.

The Ogres War. Her short-lived engagement to Gaston. The months spent locked away in a narrow cell in a tower, listening to the Evil Queen’s taunts beyond the wooden door.  
And him. Rumplestiltskin.

He took a step back from her now, his hands raised. The uncertainty dancing in his eyes threatened to undo her. There was a new layer of sadness hiding in those depths, she saw. Belle felt a wave of horror rise up as she contemplated it, noting the way he held himself now, like a rabbit caught in headlights. What had happened to him to reduce all his hope and longing to a single kernel? Even now, he kept the distance between them, as though he could hardly bring himself to realize that he’d saved her. Again. Saved her from a half-life where happiness seemed to trickle away down the drain and where everything felt transient, fleeting and pointless.

Belle touched her pinkie finger to her bottom lip. It was tender, kiss-bruised.

“True love’s kiss,” she breathed.

Once upon a time, she had tried to break the dark curse eating away at Rumplestiltskin with a kiss and she’d failed. It seemed like a very long time ago, long enough for the sting of that rejection to fade away. 

Rumplestiltskin jerked at her words, as though she’d thrown them at him. Belle bit her lip as she waited for him to do something, anything. One more second of silence and she thought she might faint from the tension shredding at her nerves.

Just when she was about to give up hope, he said “Regina told me you were dead.”

Belle’s eyes widened in horror. She watched as he swallowed, choking back whatever nightmares were rising to the surface of his mind. 

“When I saw you in Storybrooke, I didn’t… I thought you were part of the curse. My price for tricking Regina into casting it. I thought you were an illusion, intent to haunt me. That's why I never-- I've wanted to break your curse ever since I laid eyes on you here. But I...”

Goodness, she couldn't imagine how terrible that must have felt. She tried to picture it the other way around. Perhaps being cursed to forget wasn't the worst thing in the world. Perhaps remembering was the greatest curse of all. All of those months and years spent watching her, hoping that one day she might love him enough to free her.  
And Rumplestiltskin of course, would never have believed she would fall in love with him all over again. Something in him was broken, after all, a dark whisper hissing in the corner of his mind that he didn't deserve a happy ending. She had sensed as much in the Dark Castle, when he jumped to the conclusion that her feelings were a lie.

Would he ever see himself as she did? Not as some hideous beast, but as a man. A man Belle loved with all her heart.

His words turned over and over in her head. My price for tricking Regina into casting it, he'd said.

Her fingers tightened on the balustrade. So Rumple was responsible for all of this? It felt strange to be touching something made by a curse, something that had never existed until Regina honed it out of her thoughts and made it real. This balcony, the Hall, the whole town. Nothing but a dream.

Belle supposed she should feel anger towards the man standing towards her. She supposed she should feel resentment for all the years spent wondering why she didn’t feel at home in her own skin, why her hopes of travelling never felt tangible. Cursed. All this time, she’d lived a false life.  
But Belle didn’t feel angry. She didn’t even feel afraid, even though she knew now how calculated this whole thing had been. What lengths had Rumplestiltskin gone to in order to manipulate the Queen? And why? In the wake of all that cunning, she should have been ready to flee.

Belle didn’t want to run from him. She wanted to run to him. She wanted to wrap herself up in his arms and never let go. Yes, he had orchestrated this curse. But in doing so, he had unknowingly freed her. And even cursed, even in another world, even without her memories, Belle had recognized the man she loved and gravitated towards him, like a planet orbiting the sun.

Perhaps some of that awe showed in her face, for it seemed to break the spell on him at last.

“Belle?” He turned her name into a prayer, a brief spark of hope.

She could have sworn he’d stopped breathing as she closed the space between them. This time, there was no soft brush of lips. This time, she threw herself into the kiss, letting her happiness ravage them both. Belle stroked a hand through his hair, tangling in locks softer than silk. Each beat of her heart seemed set to the rhythm of his name. Rumple. Rumple. Rumple. 

This is what it felt like to be happy. So happy that if the world had fallen down around her ears, Belle didn’t think she’d even notice. She trembled with it, and Rumple held her as she claimed him again and again with her mouth. A kiss for every stolen year. A kiss for all the time they’d missed out on.

They stumbled back against the balustrade. Belle barely paid attention to the stone biting into her back.

His lips broke away from hers and traced a line of fire from her cheek to her ear. He chuckled as she gasped, catching her earlobe between his teeth. He dragged his mouth down her neck as she bared it to him and he understood her silent pleas, kissing lower and lower until he reached the hollow of her throat. His fists bunched in her dress, feathers fluttering to the ground. Belle sensed her skirt riding higher and higher, but the part of her that usually cared about propriety seemed to have vanished. It didn’t seem to matter that at any moment, someone could fling open the doors to the balcony and discover them. Her world narrowed to Rumple, pulling her ever closer by the lapels of her borrowed jacket, baring her shoulder so he could skim his fingers over it. The thought of those fingers trailing down her body made Belle moan.

Apparently, Rumple had enough common sense left to break off their kiss before it went any further. Belle thought she might burn with longing, reduced to cinders on the ground.   
She needed to kiss him again. She needed to make up for all the days spent pining for him like she needed air to breathe. But he was smiling, a teasing grin that promised her that they would make up for all the lost time. Together.

The word sighed through her mind as she gulped down a breath. 

“Go get your coat,” he rasped.


	11. Their Happy Ending

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rumple's POV. Now that he's broken the curse on Belle, he's unsure what is in store for them both.  
> But he really really wants to find out.  
> Final chapter <3

It seemed that the world owed Rumplestiltskin a whole wealth of happiness.  
He stared at Belle until she disappeared from view, caught up with goodbyes and smiles on her way to the cloakroom. Then he turned his attention to the rest of the room.

For the most part, he resented the people of Storybrooke. With their false personalities and simple lives. Of course, they were cursed, forced to redo boring, mundane things over and over again, never knowing that they were being deprived of their happy endings. But to Rumple, who remembered every single monotonous day, that sounded like a little slice of heaven.

Now though, with Belle by his side, he could extend a little bit of sympathy towards them. So he made sure to wave at Snow White when she nodded at him and told her to enjoy her evening. He joked with Archie as he passed, even though the former cricket spilled punch on Rumple's trousers.

There was another surprise in store too.

Rumple watched with interest as Sheriff Graham cut a path through the crowd, striding over to Mayor Mills. They spoke in whispers, but Rumple had long perfected the art of lip reading. 

All the better to eavesdrop, dearie, he thought.

"What are you doing here?" Regina hissed. She looked angry, her eyes spitting sparks.

Graham--to his credit-- appeared calm. "You told me to let you know if anyone new came into town. This- this woman showed up. Henry was with her. He says she's his birth mother."

"That's not possible," Regina snarled.

But a quick glance around the room told Rumple everything he needed to know. Young Henry Mills was nowhere to be seen.

"He must have snuck out during the party," Robin said. 

He appeared at Regina's side as smooth as smoke. He trailed his fingers down her bare arm in small circles. Trying to reassure her, Rumple suspected. To his surprise Regina did seem to calm down at his touch.  
But only for a moment.

Graham nodded. "He's safe now though."

"And this woman? Who is she?"

Rumple shifted a little closer. His mind whirled.

"Her name is Emma Swan. She arrived about a half hour ago."

Emma. Emma. Emma.

A smirk curved Rumple's lips. He turned his attention away from Regina, who looked as though she might explode with fury.

Just in time to see Belle hurrying towards him, her coat folded across her arm. She was radiant, he thought. Like a little sun. A pang of desire shot through his heart at the sight of her. 

He escorted her into his car and folded himself in behind the wheel. Only then did he realize that he didn't know how to proceed. He wanted to drive Belle back to his own place and make love to her and wake up next to her every single day for the rest of his life. But what did Belle want?  
Rumple sighed and braced his forearms against the dashboard. He risked a glance at Belle, hoping to see the same desire in her eyes.

She smiled at him and patted his knee.

"Let's go home," she said.

So they did.


End file.
